


Week's Long Wait

by Lackyducks



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fainting, Kidnapping, M/M, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Panic Attacks, RT Secret Santa 2016, Serious Injuries, Sorry FH, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9058891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lackyducks/pseuds/Lackyducks
Summary: A picture, coordinates, and the kidnapping of an entire allied gang. Add a few moral decisions in there, and it’s only a recipe for disaster.
A disaster it is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for the [2016 RT Secret Santa](http://rtsecretsanta2016.tumblr.com) as a gift for [kass-the-kitten](http://kass-the-kitten.tumblr.com)!
> 
> the tumblr post can be found [here](http://rtsecretsanta2016.tumblr.com/post/154955106484/weeks-long-wait)!
> 
> i apologise in advance and hope you enjoy!

Heartbeats thundering, the skidding of shoes and the rampage of feet. Another corner, another alley, just got to get to the road - James is waiting, just got to get-

Pain sheers through his chest, sharp and merciless and he almost falls, almost, catches himself and continues  _ running.  _ The world starts dissolving into black spots and patterns but there's still no time, there's never any time it's gone  _ wrong-  _ how did it go this  _ wrong? _

Brighter light, in front of him, not just at the top of the suffocating brick walls. A sidewalk, an opening, road, road,  _ road- _

“Adam!”  _ James _ . He can barely recognise the body, just keeps his feet moving under him. Almost there, he's so close-

A cry, the body - James - crumples, falls from his bike onto the concrete below. There's a crack, he thinks, he's not sure. He finds himself dropping, hand pressed to his own chest, red staining the white skin (he shouldn't be this pale, shouldn't be.) Some clings to his fingers, clings to his clothes, James’ clothes, as he circles James, some last instinct to  _ protect,  _ keep  _ safe.  _ There's people, guns, he glares at the one who'd been stood behind James’ bike. Tears brim in his eyes, James is still breathing. 

“Secured the targets.” Another voice, behind him, doesn't recognise. Adam turns his head, tries to look and then there's pain and then a nervously blissful nothing.

 

“I still haven't got a text back.” Jack announces as she steps into the room. 

“Aw, Jack, you're leaving us?” Jeremy calls out, not taking his eyes off the intense game of  _ Dead by Daylight _ he's in the middle of. Jack makes sure to whack his head on the way past, sits down on the armchair as she taps her phone screen, sighing.

Jeremy’s in the process of trying to kill Gavin, Michael and Ryan, the three occupying their small desks at the back of the room. Besides Gavin, who's sat on the sofa next to them on his laptop. 

“From the Haus, which Gavin  _ should _ be getting ready for.” She looks up to glare at him and gets no response. Instead, shakes her head and crosses her legs.

“Didn't they have that heist that went badly? They might still be lying low.” Ryan suggests. 

She sighs, “Even more of a reason for Joel to send his usual confirmation text.” She's obviously nervous, leg bouncing and turning the phone screen on despite her phone being on vibrate. She stands up, goes to pace the length of the house again. Jeremy follows after her with his eyes, before hearing a noise in game and just spotting one of them in the screen. 

Five minutes later and Jack returns, grabbing Gavin's collar and physically dragging him away. All four protest for the ruined game, and split to their own tasks. 

 

Jeremy ends up with Matt, it's been awhile since the two of them have gotten some time to themselves. They've been planning for a big heist, and their time has been entirely consumed by planning: meetings, scoping, stocking, info gathering. It's exhausting but he knows the reward will be great. It's their biggest heist yet, they  _ have  _ to get this right. 

“You can't go five minutes without touching redstone, can you?” Jeremy deadpans, watching Matt's character lead a trail of the incriminating red underneath what they'd been building. 

Matt doesn't even turn away from the screen, “I don't know what you mean, Jeremy.” 

“I can  _ see you _ , you fucker!” Jeremy elbows him, laughing as Matt flops onto the sofa. “I thought someone was supposed to be doing physical training.”

“I've been doing it!” Jeremy fixes Matt with a hard stare, and he sighs, “It's just. In the beginning stages.” 

“Sure it is.” Jeremy shakes his head, lies on Matt's side now he's sat up again. He's warm, despite only wearing a graphic tee. Maybe the apartment is just cold. “Try your best, ‘kay? Keep yourself safe.” There's a plea in the words- one Jeremy knows Matt picks up on because of how he slumps, defeated.

“Yeah, I know.” He says, answering the statement Jeremy doesn't have to say aloud, “I'm looking after myself.” He laughs, “They'd have to find me outside first.”

“You went outside to get here!” Jeremy protests, the game paused. 

Matt is half way through his reply when his phone buzzes an odd pattern. The words die off his tongue, turns away to pick it up. Jeremy sits up so he can, feels the tenseness that had suddenly consumed his body. The silence of the apartment is almost creepy. Jeremy's become far too accustomed to background noise, and almost on cue music in the game chimes out its familiar first notes. Ironically, the juxtaposition of it makes the situation all the more tense.

“I need to head in.” Matt stands, abruptly, and Jeremy follows just as fast. 

“What's happening?” By the time he's finished asking, Matt's already got one arm in his coat. Jeremy backtracks, goes to grab his jacket. Matt doesn't reply, so Jeremy says a slightly more forceful, “ _ Matt. _ ”

“Bad fucking shit.” Matt shakes his head, reaches for his shoes, “Haus is gone.” Jeremy feels his heart still, panic in his chest, and suddenly wishes he'd paid more attention to Jack’s worry. Jeremy grabs his shoes, and Matt finally notices him doing so. “You don't need to come.” 

“You'll find I do.” Jeremy leaves no room for argument, and Matt pauses by the door to make one anyway.

“This is a job for the B-Team, you don't need to worry yet.”

“Yes but I will, might as well worry about it early.” Jeremy pushes past Matt at the door, and Matt ends up begrudgingly following him. 

“You won't be able to  _ do anything! _ ” Matt waves his hands. This time Jeremy just fixes him with a look, and Jeremy fixes him with one right back, “You're the blowy up save the day guy! Not the behind the scenes anymore!”

“I can be both. You're wasting time.” And no more was said between the two.

 

The B-Team warehouse is scarily quiet. It's the opposite of their penthouse mid-planning. The penthouse is loud, full of activity and people. The warehouse has none of that. The sound of typing resounds through the air, an occasional murmur. Jeremy knows Lindsay must be upstairs, talking on the phone, collecting contacts. It's been awhile since they've been called in for a job of this extent.

“It's coordinates!” Trevor calls out, standing from his desk and running across to their planning room. The others stand, follow him, and Matt and Jeremy share a look before they do too. Now, it's louder, a buzz of activity as they stand over the map, with rulers and pointing. Steffie notices the two enter, smiles at them. Jeremy decides that it might be smart to talk to her. She's stood to the side as if welcoming it.

“Jeremy, I thought you were glad to be rid of us.” Steffie greets, a surprisingly playful smile for someone helping manage a rescue mission. Jeremy supposes this isn't the first time this has happened. In fact, it's more of a monthly occurrence, the only real difference is that this time it's Haus. And all of them.

“Couldn't get enough of your beautiful face.” Jeremy nods to her and she rolls her eyes, looks towards the others. Trevor is obviously leading the charge right now, waving something Jeremy can't quite make out but is probably a photo. That's the problem with photos, really, you can tell what they are but you want to know what it's  _ of.  _

“Great, can you help put your beautiful brain to work?” She teases, leads them to the table, “Guy kidnaps an entire gang without us knowing, sends a photo to give themself away with random numbers on that we now think are coordinates. What's the game, here?” Jeremy looks at the table, can see now that they're marked out an old warehouse. Jeremy frowns. 

“Looks like a trap, to me.” He shrugs. 

He's only slightly surprised when Matt speaks up beside him, “It does, but whoever this is kidnapped all of  _ Haus.  _ Left us coordinates on a picture. If they wanted Haus gone, then they would be gone. This is purposeful, and that’s even creepier. I don’t think they’re trying to lead us into a trap.” Jeremy hates how much that makes sense. The three exchange glances, and Steffie sighs.

“It seems like a power play, but we’re going to treat it like a trap.” She finally decides, looking at the marked warehouse. 

“I mean,” Jeremy adds, “I’ve never had a good experience in a warehouse.”

Steffie rolls her eyes, “Let’s see if this’ll be a new start.”

 

“This is a bad idea.” Ryan is still grumbling, and it’s obvious if he weren’t driving his arms would be folded. His eyes are calculating, what can be seen through the mask, anyway. Jeremy is obliged to agree. Rain pours onto the car, a thundering beat against the roof as they drive in silence. It’s only Ryan, Jeremy, Michael and Jack. Jeremy still feels like he’s only being sent because he’s expendable. He tries to shake that feeling off but, it nags at him, really. Geoff would burn the city to the ground for any one of them, and he’s no exception. Newer or not. Believing that himself is the harder part. 

“No shit.” Michael mutters, doesn’t look away from the water drenched window. Jeremy wishes the car drive would last longer, even as they still to a stop a safe distance away from the warehouse. He doesn’t want to go out in that, let alone scope for traps. Necessary evils. He taps his earphone, hears it buzz into life. 

Matt’s voice follows, “Either you’re at the location or you just couldn’t bear to be away from my voice any longer.” 

“Oh honey, maybe it’s both. And you can cook dinner tonight.” Jeremy retorts, hearing Matt’s crackly huff of displeasure in response. 

“Please no, I can’t deal with that again.” Jack interjects, and as Jeremy turns to look she’s standing, already getting out of the car. He shakes his head, feels the freezing cold drift in before the slam of the door. “I could do without food poisoning.”

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault!” Matt protests, anger distorted and only succeeding in making Jeremy laugh. He steps out of the car, regrettably, and feels the rain start to hammer at his jacket. It’s only water-resistant, so if he’s lucky it’ll be a few minutes before it soaks through completely. His hair is already soaking through.

“We need to get inside, do we have to be sneaky?” Michael complains, holding his hand out and glaring at the puddle of water gathering in it. 

“Unfortunately yes, better safe than sorry.” Jack says, as she’s pulling her beanie a little further over her ears. “Lil J, I trust you’re still going to be good to get inside first?” Jeremy nods and she continues, “Right, we’ll find somewhere to hang out close by. You should be looking at the back of the warehouse, there’s a small overhanging balcony you can climb in through.”

“I was at the planning, Jack.” Jeremy reminds her.

“Better safe than sorry.” She smiles, and Jeremy sighs at the genuine care and  _ worry _ in her eyes. This has shaken her up a bit, he knows that. Both her and Geoff, those two were closest to Haus. He knows the other lads were close with one of the members, but he’s not seen much of them himself. Fleeting glances or conversations at parties or network-wide meetings, but that’s it really. He knows who they are, still, just not personally. 

The walk up to the warehouse is a dirt track, which in itself is muddy and yet still infinitely better than the one through the bushes he’s forced to take. They approach from the side, and Jeremy eventually splits from the others to approach on his own. Matt’s steady typing is a welcoming comfort in his ear. Usually, he’d find comfort in the rain, but not now. It’s a foreboding, almost mourning kind of rain that you get in dumb movies when someone’s died and they’re driving off to a funeral or someone’s about to find out their partner never loved them- pathetic fallacy is a  _ bitch.  _

His hands ache at the first ledge, holding it tight as he pulls himself up, balances on the tiny line left by the closed doors. He rubs them together, pausing before looking up at the balcony. It hangs over his head, further out than he’d really like. It protects him from the rain, and Jeremy takes the opportunity to dry his hands slightly more. Water is only good for grip if you can hold it there long enough for it to go wrinkled, and for the purpose of not getting hypothermia, that isn’t going to work. It feels like a leap of faith when he finally leans back, lets himself jump up and grabs the very edge of the balcony, barely taking a breath as he swings, pushes himself up onto the surface fully. Looking down at the ground, he’s rather glad he didn’t fall. 

There’s a small, boarded up window on the balcony - just like the pictures the B-Team managed to source - and Jeremy finds himself pulling the boards off to enter. He regrets not bringing his gloves when he manages to stab himself on a loose bit of wood, flinching back from it. He glares, picks the fragment left in his hand and proceeds to simply kick through the boards. Fuck stealth, he’s bleeding and wet. He peeks through the window and then frowns. He’s not sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this. 

The warehouse is completely empty, the doors wide open. Well, it's empty besides the very centre of the room. A few small floodlights surround a table, a laptop sat closed on top of it. The warehouse is dark beside that, only illuminated by the floodlights and the natural light from the door. And the window Jeremy kicked through. He’s not sure if he should pull himself through onto the walkway. It looks like a trap yet, there’s nowhere for people to hide. There isn't anything besides the damn floodlights and laptop table. He doesn’t  _ understand. _

“Well, this looks like some horror shit.” Jeremy finally says, speaking to whoever may be listening on the other side. 

“Define ‘horror shit’.” Matt says on the other end. Jeremy sighs, leans on the window ledge. 

“There’s floodlights and a laptop. It’s completely empty besides that.” He shakes his head, “Unsure how to proceed.”

“Is the laptop open?”

“Nope.”

“Do you think you can open it?” Jeremy looks more into the room, as if for some sarcastic effect.

“Yeah sure, Axial, let me grow out my lil noodle arms right here. That would mean entering the warehouse.” He mutters. He can just make out Matt’s laugh in response. 

“Do you think it’s safe?” Matt asks then, and Jeremy barely resists biting at his lip.

“You know I don’t like making those calls.” He says, but sighs anyway, “I think so.” He hears Matt say something away from the microphone, waits patiently for his further instructions. The sound of the rain hurts his ears, it still hasn’t let up. It echoes off the metal roof, he dreads to think what it’ll sound like when he’s fully inside. There’s no difference between the dripping of his soaked clothes and the hammering of the rain anymore. 

“Enter with caution, I just want that laptop opened.” Matt finally orders, and Jeremy listens to the affirmatives from the others. He doesn’t move until he sees them at the very entrance, and only then does he climb into the warehouse itself, feet barely echoing with the rain. He thinks he hears lightning when he enters, and politely asks the weather to fuck off in his head. Ryan waves at him from down below, and Jeremy returns it, spraying water into his own face. 

They gather around the laptop, Ryan having examined it for any external wires about five times now. It only leads to one thing, a small battery that was under the table, where Jeremy couldn’t see it. Yet, even that doesn’t seem like a threat. Michael steps forward, pulls open the laptop with probably more aggression than is needed.

“Okay, I opened the fucking-” The screen flickers to life, and they all freeze. It looks like a chat window, dots bouncing as a camera feed loads. They can see a feed of themselves in the bottom corner, staring wide-eyed at the laptop. In the chat, there is a single message lingering, with no user attached.

**[[: welcome]]**

“I’m going to assume that the silence is bad.” Matt’s voice breaks Jeremy out of his stunned silence, and he starts breathing once more. “I’ve got a signal from the laptop, I’m trying to trace it. Actually, shit, this signal is loaded. Shit.” Jeremy leans towards the screen, typing into the chatbox.

**[[: hello?]]**

There’s a pause, no reply for a long, long few seconds. Then the dots finish stop moving, the computer lets out a cheery beep, and the camera finishes loading.

Jeremy, admittedly, feels a little sick. 

He doesn’t recognise the guy on the other side of the screen, though he assumes it’s one of Haus by the other’s reactions. He looks surprisingly young, with boyish features that are marred with blood and bruising. One of his eyes looks particularly bruised, and a cut on his forehead still bleeds. His arms are tied to metal armrests and it all feels a bit cliche. Jeremy feels Jack grab his hand out of view of the camera, and once again remembers breathing is a necessary human trait. The others are just barely concealing their anger, and Michael fails completely.

“You  _ bastard,  _ what have you done to him?!” Ryan discreetly puts a hand on his arm, tugs him back away from the screen. This is their best shot, they need to buy time for Matt. Jeremy just wishes he knew the play. The guy on camera blinks one eye open, surprised. The other looks like it’s swollen shut and Jeremy winces in sympathy. 

**[[: id watch your words, if i were you.]]**

Jeremy doesn’t bother typing out a response, they can obviously hear them. Instead he says, “So, what’s the plan here? We’re here for a reason. What is it?” He knows they’re supposed to be buying time, but feels Jack’s grip tighten at the small whimper the battered boy makes, he is done with patience. He’s been done with it for a while. 

**[[: clever boy.]]**

**[[: its simple.]]**

**[[: you get two choices, and you have to pick one.]]**

“What are the choices?” Jack asks, voice steadier than her shaking hand. Jeremy has to hold back from glancing at her, checking if she’s okay. He settles for the tiny playback of them, their forms stuttering as they move. Michael’s glaring at the screen, Ryan looks as unmoved as ever. But Jeremy can see the hard set of his shoulder, the indication he’s in job mode, he’s acting, and he hopes the fallout from this won’t be too bad. 

**[[: itll be different each time. for this time though,]]**

**[[: left or right?]]**

Michael exclaims, “What the fuck?!” at the same time Jack asks a serious, “Left or right what?” There’s no answer, no nothing. Just the small whimpers from the guy and Jack looks visibly pained, Michael looks visibly angry and Jeremy doesn’t know what to do. Ryan doesn’t seem to either, and they stand at an impasse. 

**[[: tick tock]]**

“What the fuck do you mean?! Left or right?! Fucking tell us!” Michael yells, and even Jeremy shies back from the unrestrained fury in his voice. There’s nothing - nothing at all - and Jeremy can almost feel the seconds slipping by in his head. The rain continues to pound tirelessly, he feels lightheaded. 

**[[: too slow! well do both!]]**

Jeremy feels his heart still, his world narrow into himself in an instance, in a moment and the sick feeling is back. There’s a commotion behind the camera, a man in a black mask waving at them with a hammer. The guy in the chair is whimpering, pleading as his hand is grabbed, straightened out and the hammer is swung down onto it. Jeremy flinches at the haunting crunch, at the guy’s scream and Michael’s yelling and Jack’s pained noise. He brings the hammer down again and again and- Jeremy can’t watch anymore.

He’s barely out the warehouse and then there’s a beep, a ticking and they’re all yelling, Matt frantically instructing them to  _ get out move god please.  _ They’re half way down the path away from the warehouse when it explodes. It still knocks Jeremy off his feet.

 

“What the fuck are we supposed to do?!” Michael is yelling, shouting, pacing the living room of the penthouse as if he’ll explode when he stops and Jeremy doesn’t doubt it. He’s sat tense on the sofa, away from anyone else. It all still feels like that damn thunderstorm that attacked and left but a dark cloud to haunt with the simple concept of it ever existing. 

Matt couldn’t trace the signal in time.

He learnt the guy was Spoole.

Tension has suffocated them since, nobody wants to place blame and yet everyone does. Jeremy’s falls on himself. His arm is bandaged where he’d fallen on it, ripped apart by the gravel on the pathway. There are some bandages around his hand too, just to make sure it doesn’t get infected. Jack had been silent while doing it and Jeremy felt so, so alone. He should’ve brought more time, done more, tried more- the list is endless, really. Everyone is stressed and it feels like a weight on his shoulders.

“Keep looking.” Ryan mutters, suddenly stalking off into one of the other rooms. Jeremy watches him go. He feels helpless as they begin arguing again.

 

“There was another picture.” Jack startles him, stands above him and Jeremy doesn’t even know when she got there, when the others left. “They’re getting the coordinates now, I thought you should know.” Her voice is soft, delicate, because Jeremy is rigid glass ready to shatter into what some people would call art and what others would call a mess. 

“I’m going.” Jeremy stands, and Jack’s hands are on his shoulders in an instance, pushing him back down.

“You’re not.”

“I am, Jack.” He says, firm, and she blinks at him, at the rawness beneath the quiet tone. He holds her stare, holds his stance, and she shakes her head. 

“You shouldn’t be.” She tells him, just as firm, but relenting, stepping away from him and leading them both to walk. “The location this time is an old motel, there was a room number at the bottom. We’ve sent a message to the owner to evacuate it, just in case.” 

“Matt’s ready, this time?” He asks, and Jack nods. 

“Both Matt and Kdin. Matt said a bunch of hackery stuff that I don’t understand but I’m sure you might. We’re hopeful, this time though.” They step outside the penthouse, the sunlight of the day shining through and Jeremy frowns again.

“What time is it?” He asks, and Jack looks at him.

“You slept through the night, if that’s what you’re thinking. You wouldn’t respond to any of us, so we thought you’d need some time alone.” She explains, and that’s the opposite of what Jeremy needs, but he can’t fault them - can’t at all. “It’s around lunchtime, we got the picture early morning. We think, anyway, they managed to sneak it into the B-Team’s warehouse, we don’t actually know when.” She gestures before letting her hands drop, “They’ve got people posted now, though.”

“Good.” Jeremy doesn’t need to worry about the B-Team too, with all this mess. He knows they’re capable of protecting themselves, they’re  _ terrifying,   _ but still. He worries. One bad thing happens and it suddenly doesn’t seem all that implausible that more are to follow. 

Jack leads them both to the garage, letting Jeremy sit in the passenger seat as she starts up the car. There’s an awkward silence as she waits for the garage door to open, gives awkward half glances to Jeremy.

“Ryan and Geoff are going to be there too, by the way.” She finally says. Jeremy nods, and this time they fall silent completely.

 

They enter the room cautiously and with a full sweep for traps because Ryan once warned, ‘ _ never settle for complacency _ ’ and they have yet to. It’s the same set up. A laptop sits closed in the middle of the room. There’s a bed in this one, though, a drawer, and both are examined before they all enter, stand in front of the laptop. Matt is the voice in their ear once more, though Kdin’s comments can be heard in the background. Ryan opens the laptop this time, and the same screen loads up. 

“I’ve got the connection, just need to trace it.” Matt had explained to Jeremy, briefly, that since he knows a few fake leads now, he can ignore them. He’s got them written on post-it notes.

_ (“I’ve just got to keep going through them until I find the right one,” he’d said, sounding determined as he did, and Jeremy remembered how much he trusts him, “Kdin’ll be a great help with that too. Two minds are better than one.” _

_ “And mine’s better than your’s!” Kdin had called, and Jeremy laughed in spite of himself.) _

They wait, and sure enough, the second chat message pops up, right underneath the ‘welcome’.

**[[: so this time]]**

**[[: fingernails or toenails?]]**

And the camera activates and Jeremy recognises this one. James, he’s pretty sure. Considered one of the main three, codename  _ JustRiggz  _ and all the knowledge about him is purely survival, work based and he feels so out of place because he knows the Gents’ is  _ not.  _ He’s good in a fight, especially with baseball bats, but has a varied skill set despite that and a wicked sense of humour. Despite the bruises, mostly around his neck and one across his cheek, his badly split lip, he acknowledges the other’s with a nod. Geoff nods back, and it speaks more than words ever could. 

They wait until the ‘tick tock’ this time to reply, talking in hushed voices and trying to determine which’ll be best - because this is a necessary evil and Jeremy doesn’t contribute because he’s still young and it’s hard sometimes, to grasp that. His three boyfriends have endured both the same as him and yet more than he could ever imagine. 

“Fingernails.” Geoff speaks up, and James offers a tired smile at the choice, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He doesn’t show any indication of fear, but this time Jeremy leaves before it even starts. He doesn’t want to watch that again.

He’s sat waiting in the car when the explosion happens, this time. It rocks the car, very slightly, but Jack knew where best to park it so they’d be safe. He knows from the voices in his ear that the others are safe, and that Matt’s narrowed it down more but it still wasn’t enough. He lets his head fall against the rest, and just feels thankful they did evacuate the motel.

 

The next day Gavin accidentally finds the photo and has a panic attack. Jeremy doesn’t even make an attempt to look at it, he doesn’t want to know what the fingers look like with the nails torn off. Instead, he follows the Gents (despite Jack’s protests that he should stay, this is clearly affecting him) to a small beach hut. This time he finds out it was Lawrence, the Haus’ resident hacker. This time they had to choose between ankles or wrists and Geoff chose ankles because ‘ _ that bastard would complain forever if he couldn’t use a computer.’  _ Jeremy leaves once the choice is made and Matt and Kdin still haven’t narrowed it down and the explosion takes out a few beach huts.

 

Another person Jeremy doesn’t know, another  _ Matt _ , and this time the options are ‘stretched’ or ‘compressed’ in an art gallery they have to break into and they end up choosing compressed and the art gallery ends up blowing up and Jeremy has never felt this useless before.

 

Matt confronts him, that evening. Jeremy’s been at the penthouse, doesn’t want to miss any important information that might they might hide in the interests of his own sanity. So he’s surprised when there’s a click in front of his face, and Matt is stood there, glaring straight into his very soul.

“You need to stop this, Jerem’.” He says, his tone clearly masking the emotion underneath and Jeremy blinks blearily up at him. When his mind finally catches up, he frowns. Adjusts himself to lie across the sofa, head resting on the arm rest. It doesn’t take Matt much to work out he’s being ignored, and he lifts his knee up to nudge Jeremy, says a more serious, “Jeremy, stop this.” 

“Stop what?” Jeremy replies, because ignorance is bliss and Matt refuses to acknowledge it.

“You’re hurting yourself, what are you trying to accomplish here?” Matt says, waits and continues when he gets no response, “The guys know how to handle this, you keep going with them for some kind of self-flagellation, I don’t  _ get it. _ ” He shuts his eyes, takes a long breath in to calm himself, “If I were able to not be on the comms, not have to listen to every choice, to the screams- to all of it, I fucking would Jeremy. Please, you need to  _ stop this. _ ” Matt sounds like he’s begging, and Jeremy feels his heart scream. He grabs Matt’s arm, pulls him onto the sofa with him, after a lot of awkward rearranging. Their legs are intertwined, though Matt’s feet hang awkwardly off the sofa. 

“Matt, I’ve gotta do this, okay?” Jeremy whispers, admitting a secret he doesn’t want to admit, even to himself, “I don’t know why, I just  _ have to. _ ”

“But you don’t!” Matt’s voice holds a whispered urgency, desperation, “You  _ don’t,  _ Jeremy,  _ please. _ ”

“It’s fine. It’ll be fine.” Jeremy says, curling into Matt’s chest and feeling it’s rise and fall, hearing Matt’s heartbeat and being reassured that Matt’s  _ alive  _ and he’s  _ okay  _ and he is  _ here.  _ “You’re getting closer, aren’t you? We’ll be done soon.”

“Anything could happen, though, Jeremy. They could change location at the last minute, scramble the signals- you can’t do this to yourself.” Matt pleads, clutching onto Jeremy tightly. Jeremy holds him just as tight, “We’re all your partners, none of us will judge you for stepping back, okay? We all  _ love you. _ ” 

“Matt, it’s okay.” Jeremy whispers, hushes Matt’s half attempted protest, “I promise, it’s okay. Sleep now, alright.” And he cradles Matt close, waits until he’s asleep before he even dares of sleeping himself. And maybe it isn’t smart, but Jeremy is like this, is the self-sacrificial asshole because if he’s not: what else can he be?

And maybe hearing another Matt in pain affected him more than he’d like to admit.

 

They’re searching for the next picture when a particularly angry banging wakes up the penthouse. Jeremy and Matt are the only two still home, and Jeremy carefully untangles from Matt, kisses his forehead as he walks over to the door. If the person made it up this far, they likely aren’t a threat. He checks anyway, and finds his heart beats so fast it might give way altogether. He opens the door immediately.

“Where the  _ fuck  _ are my crew?” She demands, glares at Jeremy when he tries to shush her. He motions to Matt, sleeping, and she rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been in fucking  _ hospital  _ and I finally get out and find all my boyfriends  _ gone  _ and the word on the street is they’ve been kidnapped- I am  _ not  _ happy.” Jeremy doesn’t think he’s seen such anger in Elyse’s eyes before, such an unhidden fury that catches him off guard, surprises him. She storms into the penthouse, spins to face Jeremy. “Where’s Geoff?” 

“He’s not here right now, they’re all with the B-Team. I can drive you there, if you want?” Jeremy offers, he knows he was going to have to take Matt there anyway. She nods, and barely five minutes later they’re in his car, in a very, very tense silence, as Matt dozes against the window in the back. 

Geoff takes Elyse into a different room to talk to her, but they can still hear her cry. Jeremy almost cries himself, hugs Matt just as tightly as last night and Matt hugs him just as tightly back. Neither of them know what they’d do if they were in her position.

 

“I’m going with you.” She declares, once they’ve found the next location (a service station that Jeremy believes is long abandoned, but worries about the fuel in it anyway.

“No, you’re-”

She interrupts Geoff, “Yes, I am.” And no-one bothers arguing with her after that.

 

This time, it’s Bruce, the choice is arm or leg, and they choose arm. Bruce looks like he might’ve cried at the sight of Elyse, and Elyse cries at the sight of him. The two of them talk quietly as they make their choice, and she only leaves with Jeremy before the consequences happen because Bruce himself tells her to. He holds her as she cries into his shoulder, and it turns out that worrying about the gas was right - the explosion was bigger than expected.

Matt and Kdin still aren’t through - but they’re close. They’re so, so close.

 

An empty unit in a shopping mall, Joel (Jeremy only knows him because he takes their meetings), and the choice between fire and water. They choose fire, Jeremy leaves with Elyse once more, and she comments how this all feels like a fucked up game of  _ Clue _ , and Jeremy finds himself agreeing.

When he repeats it to Gavin, later, when Elyse is asleep in their guest room because she doesn’t deserve to be alone - not now - Gavin doesn’t understand what he means at first, and when Jeremy finally explains it the argument between it being  _ Clue _ or  _ Cluedo _ lasts ages, and there is no clear winner. The clear loser, perhaps, is the box of _ Clue _ Gavin dropped out the window and then hoped didn’t land on somebody’s head. 

_ (“Gavin, the pavement, and a box of Clue.” Ryan jokes. _

_ “It’s bloody Cluedo!”) _

The connection cut out seconds before Matt and Kdin could determine the location. 

 

The plan is different, this time. Michael, Gavin, Elyse, and any of B-Team that isn’t Matt, are on standby to travel to the location that Matt provides them. Jeremy still chooses to go with the Gents. Maybe it’s the need to continue tradition, maybe it’s the selfishness of not wanting to see what he’s caused.

Whichever it is, he does not go with the rescue team.

 

Instead, he travels to a small repair shop, which is mysteriously empty of all customers, employees and cars when they arrive. Jeremy wishes they could’ve used this one before, so they could’ve had a  _ lead,  _ but  _ no.  _

Geoff opens the laptop, pulls up a seat. Jeremy rolls his eyes, debates standing behind him like a threatening mob henchman. He does, of course, because what kind of man can’t resist an opportunity like that? Ryan does too, and Jack gives them both a look that’s barely caught on the camera as it turns on, and Jeremy’s shoulders slightly turn inwards as he stifles a laugh.

“Guys I’ve got the location-” Jeremy hears Matt say, doesn’t show any visible sign of relief but feels as if the weight of an extra skin just melted off him. The person this time is Adam, Jeremy knows him. He’d done a few jobs with them, back before Haus, and he was friendly, deadpan, the kind of humour you appreciate after massacring an entire building. He looks the worst out of all of them at the start, his eyes hold a tired sparkle, but he lacks a shirt, his chest wrapped in an obvious gauze. Two, in fact, and Jeremy can recognise that as a patch up job on bullet wounds. What the fuck did he do?

**[[: welcome]]**

**[[: i thought it was time to move the game up a little]]**

**[[: your choices this time - blind or deaf?]]**

Jeremy’s breath stills in his throat, and it’s a conscious effort to not let his demeanour waver. Even Adam’s eyes widen, shoulders tense up and withdraw and it’s so, so obvious that  _ nobody was prepared for this.  _ They need to stall, they have to now, fuck, they  _ have to.  _ The four of them turn to each other, talk in hushed voices, try to prepare the worst case scenario that is so much worse than the best case that it feels like the light and dark side of the moon. Yet you can’t see the stars through either.

**[[: the time limit still applies]]**

Jeremy turns to the message, sticks his middle finger up.

“You just raised the stakes, we’ve gotta think shit through.” He says, firmly, turning back into the group. 

Minutes later, another beep, and Jeremy knows they’re running out of time and he does something that might bite him in the ass, if not for the voice in his earphone. 

He declares, “Deaf.” just as an explosion shakes the camera on the laptop, the person on the other side scowling, raising a knife and pointing it at the camera.

“You think I’m stupid? Don’t you?” They hiss, glare at them through the mask and the blank expression combined with those eyes is  _ terrifying.  _ “Think I don’t realise you’re stalling for time, so  _ guess what.  _ We’re going to do both, I’ve always wanted to know if you can pop an eyeball.” More explosions, gunfire, and Jeremy feels lightheaded, takes quick breaths and he’s not sure if he’s starting to hyperventilate or not, everything is getting to be  _ too much. _

Jack puts a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, and it feels like a burning touch, she’s saying something and Jeremy is dropping, falling-

Collapsed. 

 

He wakes up in a hospital, and Matt is asleep on his chest. 

There’s a bandage wrapped around his head, an exhaustion he can’t seem to shake off from his thoughts and a numb feeling in his chest. Matt stirs a little, comes back into consciousness far slower than Matt, and Jeremy already knows that he stayed up until he passed out again. Matt rolls his head onto his face, groans, and finally sitting back up. He pushes his hair back, shakes his head, before startling fully upright.

“Jeremy, you’re- fuck you’re  _ awake. _ ” Jeremy blinks at him, slightly confused.

“Was I out for long?”

“A day. A fucking  _ day _ , Jeremy. You said you wouldn’t do this, I  _ told you- _ ”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay it just-”

“Don’t you dare, ‘ _ it’s okay’  _ me! Do you know what it’s like having to lead one of the most stressful missions of my life, to then find out one of my boyfriends fainted during it as well?! That he hit his head on a loose piece of metal and that he was bleeding?! Do you  _ know?! _ ”

“No, I don’t, Matt- shit, I’m so sorry.” Jeremy reaches a hand up, cups Matt’s face and Matt’s own hands reach up to it, hold it so tightly.

“Don’t do that again,  _ promise me _ , Jeremy.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Promise you’ll try.” A silence stills between them, Jeremy staring at the openness, the fragility bleeding in Matt’s gaze and nods.

“I’ll try, I promise I’ll try.” Jeremy reassures him, and lets Matt cry into his shoulder the same way Elyse did, mere days before. Only this time, Jeremy’s crying too, because it’s  _ over,  _ and they’re both okay. For now, sure, but for now can reach for infinity and yet still be too short and frankly ‘for now’ can  _ suck it.  _ One’s of Matt’s hands cups Jeremy’s head, feel the bandages there and he only sobs harder.

“You better fucking try, ‘cause Geoff’s ready to lock you in the fucking penthouse ‘til you do.” And Jeremy groans, because oh yeah, he’s got that to deal with. Just what you want when you’ve woken up in hospital. Jeremy already knows the only reason he’s not already getting scolded is because it’s a head injury.

“Send him in.” Jeremy sighs, “If I’m lucky I’ll pass out during it.”

 

Jeremy does not pass out during it, but it does at least end in a group hug, Gavin almost falling off the bed and giving himself a concussion as they all laugh, relieved,  _ relaxed  _ tears because for once they’ve made it, they’ve made it out okay. It so easily could’ve been then. Maybe that thought scares them the most. 

Jeremy ends up on top of an asleep Michael, Gavin curled miraculously in the bed around the two. Ryan and Jack leave to get Jeremy something to drink, and Geoff stays, sits in the chair Matt was sat in before getting kicked out to get some ‘ _ proper fucking sleep’.  _ Jeremy meets his eyes with a tired smile, and Geoff meets his with an exhausted one.

“They’re okay, Jeremy.” He answers the question that had been lingering, stalking, ignored by the others, “Battered, bruised, pretty fucking broken, but they’re all okay. Caleb says nothing should be permanent.” 

“Good.” Jeremy sighs, lets his head fall back against the pillow. 

“They’re all resting up, you can visit them later, if you want.” Geoff chuckles, leans back in his chair, “Gonna have some pretty sick scars, some of them.”

“At least they have something to remember us by.” Jeremy jokes, and Geoff laughs, brushes some of Jeremy’s hair back from his eyes. He smiles, eyes twinkling with something Jeremy still doesn’t understand, not yet, maybe not ever.

“Go back to sleep, idiot.” Geoff tells him.

“Sure thing, boss.” Jeremy murmurs back. 

He’s asleep in minutes.

 

“Elyse, no, you love me!” James calls, waving his bandaged hand as she walks past him. Jeremy laughs as he walks in, takes one of the free seats in the corner of the room.

“What’s he want this time?” He asks her, and she scoffs, throws a glare in James’ direction. 

“He wanted me to put vodka in his IV, and I quote  _ ‘just load me up’. _ ” James makes an offended noise, and she throws a middle finger up in his direction, instead sitting besides Spoole and helping him take sips of his drinks. Matt’s reading quietly, the only one they’re still having trouble reading. His torture was far more psychological, and they know that. 

_ (“Don’t worry.” Adam reassured, smiling, the eye that wasn’t covered by a bandage crinkled, “We know how to deal with him.” _

_ “Yeah, we let Spoole smother him to death.” Lawrence had added, motioning to Spoole who was, indeed, currently napping on the also napping Matt.) _

Lawrence is sat on his laptops, the clacks of the keyboard reminding him of being around Matt, or Kdin, with how they melodically fill the room. Adam and Bruce are asleep on each other, Adam’s head on Bruce’s shoulder and Bruce’s head on Adam’s. His casted arm lays in Adam’s lap, safely out of the way. Joel sits up in his bed, hospital gown barely able to hide the bandages wrapped around his chest. He’s drawing on a notepad that Jeremy’s pretty sure someone’s stolen from the reception. His movements are difficult, stilted, and Jeremy can’t begin to fathom the amount of physio he’s going to have to go through to use it fully again. But as he throws out the suggestion of putting wine in the IV instead, Jeremy’s pretty sure he’ll be okay too.

And now, he’s glad for the opportunity to understand.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @ [lackyducks](http://lackyducks.tumblr.com)


End file.
